Everything Has Changed
by sourwolves
Summary: Stiles knows he and Lydia can't be together. The night of Jackson's return verifies this. But when he tries to surround himself with friends to try and conquer the pain, he comes to the realisation that there's always one friend who'll treat you better. [Set just after season 2, includes slight spoilers and rated M for language and probable other stuff.]


My heart rested weakly in the pit of my stomach as I sat feebly on the edge of my bed. Unwelcome tears formed in the corner of my eyes before violently cascading down my cheeks. The once soft bed covers suddenly felt solid. Like I was sat on a bed of concrete. Cold, hard and uncomfortable.  
In fact, my entire bedroom dealt me nothing but pain. The carpet, the desk, even the door – all things that had came into contact with the reason I felt so down, so weak, so completely useless. _Lydia.  
_The red headed Goddess who had me tangled up in her web of hope. Hope that she would love me some day, and that we could be together. Right now, my room only reminded me of a few hours ago – when she came to see me. When it felt as if she was showing faint signs of affection towards me. Until I blurted out - letting my feelings of impatience take over which lead her to storm out. I did however chase after her. But she had already given in to her wants; _Jackson_.  
I couldn't stop it, or her. I couldn't make her love me - or even half as much as I loved her. So I gave in and drove her to where the wolves, Jackson and the remaining Argents were.  
And that's where it all happened. That's where the verification came about. The sign that I would never truly have Lydia's whole heart - only the faint weak thread of her remaining web. I was the rotting corpse of a fly that she'd accidentally caught many years ago, and she probably wasn't even aware she had me.  
When Jackson returned as one of the wolves, I'd never felt so distant from my heart than I did right there. A tiny spark within me wanted him to die. I wanted him to die with the Kanima – because in my eyes, that would mean Lydia could be mine. That we could be together, and I could help her recover from any of the feelings she'd have to deal with and mourning she'd have to do to get over him.  
But I couldn't fuel the flame. I'm not that kind of person. Death isn't something I wish upon anyone, especially someone who hasn't intentionally done anything to hurt me – even Jackson.  
He wasn't aware of the feelings I had for his girl. But even if he did - I doubt that he'd make it any easier for me. I mean, what could he do? We weren't friends. It'd be like asking a random couple to stop doing couple things – all for the sake of my feelings. I'm not like that.

I've always said; two people's happiness is a lot more important than one. Not everyone can be happy.  
But it wasn't until last night that I learnt that the hard way.

I fell back onto the bed. It never softened or showed any sympathy, but instead just hardened as I tried to battle for comfort. In the end I settled for lying on the bed of stone. I wrapped myself in the cold duvet and rested my head on the boulder that was meant to be my pillow. Sobbing ensued, and as time went on the pain didn't die down. It only seemed to get worse. The constant build of hurt and anger continued to rise and I cried a mix of both angry and hurtful tears. Each tear drop felt like a sharp knife tearing into the flesh of my cheeks. I tried to fight them off, constantly wiping my eyes with the duvet – but they continued to battle on.

Flashbacks ensued each time I closed my eyes. Flashbacks of me telling Scott I had to leave to quickly take my Jeep to the garage and get the scratch mended – which was a lie. The scratch was a failure of an excuse I made up to mask why tears were forming when we all witnessed Jackson and Lydia basically getting back together. But I had to stand by my excuse and leave. Scott knew something was up, but he let me go. Probably best I didn't cause a scene which had previously been filled with a death, a missing corpse and then a rebirth. Far too much drama - and my pathetic excuse for tears wouldn't give the critics any sympathetic satisfaction.

"_Are you okay, Stiles?" Scott asked, his hand clenched tightly onto Allison's who was enthralled with a gaped mouth while watching Jackson. The apparent death-defier. I avoided looking at them, knowing it would spark more tears.  
"I'm fine," I nodded, forcing a smile upon my lips. I over did it – and the corner of my smile met my eyes and encouraged only more tears. Before he witnessed the oncoming flood I spoke again. "-I should, uh – just really get that scratch fixed. Sooner the better." I said with the still fake smile equipped. _

_His eyes read a worried expression, but the girl beside him had his full attention. He sighed and nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" He told me and I nodded. I'd be lying to say I wasn't hurt. How he knew something was up but he let me leave anyway. But in hindsight, I gave him an alibi - like Jackson, he had his girl back. They had things they needed to resolve, too. It's one thing to think of getting Lydia to end her relationship for me, but for Scott to risk everything with Allison after she's finally herself again – that isn't what a true friend would do. _

_I hopped in my Jeep, closed the door and drove away. No-one noticed my anything-but-silent exit, but that only made me happier knowing no-one would follow me.  
I pulled up onto my drive, locked my door and ran inside. My dad wasn't home. I knew this due to the missing police car in the drive and lack of sound coming from the TV in the front room. I ran upstairs._

__Visions continued to flood my mind of both Jackson and Lydia's happiness as they were reunited. How their eyes met, how happy they made one another and the way they held each other. It haunted me. Before long it was midnight, and I'd been sobbing and aching for two hours. Another hour passed, and the tears dyed down although my eyes remained red and swollen. Finally, as it hit two in the morning I was capable of somewhat moving. The crippling pain of sobbing and ache began to fade and I was successful in sliding off my bed, hitting the floor with a thud. I didn't flinch or wince. Nothing could compare to the pain I'd felt from the past few hours.  
I could've fallen asleep in that position; leant against my bed with part of the duvet covering my left shoulder. But my dad came in – finally home from his bizarrely scheduled night shift. I assumed he'd planned on peeking in, to see if I was in bed – but when he noticed me on the floor, wearing worn out sobs and red, puffy eyes – his first priority was to see if I was okay.

"Stiles? What's wrong? Are you okay?" His voice was loud. Far too loud, considering the silence I'd barely existed in for the past few hours. "Why are you crying? Are you hurt?"  
I shook my head, completely expressionless. What could I say? He knew what I felt for Lydia, yeah. But not the entire past and what previously just happened. _Oh, dad. It's nothing. You know that girl? The red headed one? Well, I've had overwhelming feelings for her for years. I finally thought something would happen between us – but it turns out her boyfriend defies death and he's now a werewolf. So, I'm not feeling my best._ It sounded pathetic and unrealistic. If he wasn't knocked unconscious the night Matt held us all hostage in the Police station he would've witnessed the Argents, the wolves and Jackson, which meant I could've explained it. But he didn't know, and I couldn't even tell him. I swore to Scott, Derek, and everyone else. Because if the Sheriff knew, hell would break loose. His safety was another reason I didn't want him to know. He'd take it head on, assuming the Argents were right to hunt them; considering they were human and realistically it sounded better – to hunt the beast. I didn't want my dad or the wolves in danger, so for the time being he wasn't going to know anything. "I'm fine." I muttered finally. My voice lacked expression, I sounded what a corpse would sound like if they could speak. Completely lifeless.

"You're not fine." He said. He could tell I felt weak. So he did the humane thing – the fatherly guardian thing – and perched beside me. On the floor, against the bed. "Is it that girl?"  
In that instant it felt like an entire building of bricks had fallen on me, crushing me completely. Invading tears formed yet again, and before they even touched the corners of my eyes they were storming down my cheeks, hitting my lap. I still looked down, sniffing as my nose began to run. I couldn't even verify it was because of her. I felt as if I spoke, I'd choke on my own sobs. I just nodded feebly.

He threw an arm around me, forming a metaphorical barrier. No matter how old you are. Whether you're a pre-teen, late-teen or even an adult. There's no safer place than your parent's arms. No place you feel like nothing can hurt you, and that the outside world is completely irrelevant. "What's happened?" He asked. I was still looking down, but I rested my forehead on his shoulder. I felt like a kid again. Like when someone insults your drawing in pre-school, and all you do is cry.

"Everything that I didn't want to happen." I managed to get out in between gasps and inhales. He kept asking _what happened?_ But in different forms. Each time I answered with something similar, trying to pull together a good enough reason that was truthful but didn't give away anything. Finally I had one. Simple, and probably took me longer than it should have. "She went back to her boyfriend."

I wasn't looking, but I could tell my dad was frowning. Whether it be for me or for the fact he had a completely negative view on Jackson - I didn't know. "The dick with the equally dick-ish dad." _Adoptive dad._ My mind corrected him, but I couldn't vocally. His tone had humour to it, and I appreciated him trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah." I choked, nodding. I was laughing on the inside.  
"Why are you so hung up on this one girl?" He asked. The sentence itself was probably harsh, but everything he was saying was either in a tone of friendly humour or complete and utter consideration and sympathy.  
His question made me think. When it came down to it – I really couldn't pin it down to what actually made me so attracted to Lydia. There were so many things. Her hair, her humour, her intelligence – basically her whole existence. _Her._ She made me attracted to her. What made it so special to me was how even when I got ignored by her – when she made me feel like I was on a completely different planet to her – there was always a glimmer within her that sparked something in me.

I'm positive she didn't feel it – but that's probably what made me so upset; the fact that a few hours ago I thought she had.  
I shrugged. "Everything."

My dad had finally somewhat cheered me up. He took each chance he could to deal a harsh comment to Jackson or his adoptive father – neither of whom he was fond of. He threw the word 'dick' around a lot – mostly at Jackson's dad, since he wasn't the fondest of Daddy Whittemore.  
I should have felt guilty. Again, it wasn't Jackson's fault – but it felt good that my dad allowed me to let off some steam. After an hour of calming me down and cheering me up - I'd finally managed a smile. That was the moment I said we could call it a night. He'd successfully managed to stop the ongoing tears, so he deserved to go to bed. I thanked him and gave him a goodnight hug. He smiled, and notified me that he's always there for me. I smiled again – faintly – and felt completely and utterly honoured to have him as a dad. In hindsight, he'd just returned from a bizarrely long night shift that ended at an equally bizarre hour, spent almost two hours making sure I – his son – was okay after returning home, which left him with only three hours sleep before having to be up for work yet again. I couldn't have been more thankful than I was right then.  
I too, only had a few hours before I had to wake up for school. My dad had asked me if I'd wanted to go in or not – he offered to give me an alibi so I could spend the day getting myself together. I told him I was fine, and that it's better to face problems head on then put them off and let the fear build up. He agreed with a smile and then went to bed.

The once concrete bed suddenly softened and lying on it didn't deal the pain it did previously. My eyes weren't stinging as much, and I could finally breathe without choking on my own sobs. I tilted my head to the side and looked at the bedside alarm clock that illuminated the part of the room it dominated – 5:30AM. I let out a sigh and cuddled up further into the blanket, milking as much heat and warmth out of the covers I could for the last half hour I had to spare before getting up for school.  
As minutes passed – the sunlight began to pollute my room. The rays battled through the wooden blinds that hung feebly in defence opposite my bed. The blinds were losing the war – it took no longer than ten minutes before I was uncomfortably awoken.

I yawned a painful yawn and stretched upwards, fighting the sleep forbidding me from fully opening my eyes. I winced, rolled out of bed and walked towards the bathroom.  
My dad had already left for work and I had an hour and a half to kill before I had to be at school – which I wasn't looking forward to. I didn't want to see them together. I didn't want to see them holding hands, and Jackson holding her while leant back against her locker. I didn't and I couldn't. Chances are if I did, the sobs would make an unwanted comeback.  
I rid the thoughts from my head and tried to think positively; Scott had Allison back, We stopped Gerard... I think, and the wolves seemed to be at somewhat peace with the Argents.

After brushing my teeth I threw on some clothes, grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. I didn't bother with breakfast. Food wasn't on my agenda right now. However I did grab a bottle of water from the fridge before heading out with my bag on my back and my keys in hand.  
As I hopped in my Jeep and turned on the engine, my phone started bleeping. _Scott_. I forgot, he said he'd call. I hit answer. "Hey." I said in the most welcoming tone I could. He bought it.  
"Hey," He replied. He sounded down, but I couldn't tell if that was just regular old morning Scott McCall or something else. "Could you pick me up? My mom's at work and I got no sleep last night." I rolled my eyes in reply. _Same, Scott. Same._ I thought to myself.  
"Yeah sure, give me five minutes." I told him, ending the call once he agreed. I turned on the engine, pulled out my drive and onto the road. Before long I pulled up beside his house, smiling softly as I saw him perched on the front step of his porch. These forced smiles were getting tiring. Although, I had to equip another one has he jumped in the passenger seat beside me.

"Are you okay?" Was the first thing he said to me as he fastened his seatbelt."You sounded kind of down when I called, and when you left..."  
"I'm fine." I interrupted him, still wearing that hopeless, useless smile that failed to mislead him. "I'm just tired, and a lot happened last night." Yeah, a_ lot._ "It just took me awhile to get my head around Jackson rising from the dead, I suppose. It was a bit _too_ eighties horror."  
"Yeah," He nodded, frowning slightly. "But you seem-"  
"So how are you and Allison?" I butted in, wanting to avoid another conversation that would lead to me drowning in my sobs. My tone was a mix of caring friend and mental patient - hopefully he wouldn't be able to pick out the second one. "I saw you two holding hands last night, right? Is everything okay?"

Scott looked at me – annoyed for changing the topic of conversation, and looked even _more_ annoyed for the new topic I brought up. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke. "We broke up." He said, sucking in his lips.  
"You what?" I asked, in genuine shock. From what I'd witnessed last night – the last thing I expected was for them to break up. "But, you guys were holding hands..."  
He shrugged. "I went home with her last night, and we just – broke up. I didn't take it seriously until I got home – and it hit me." He looked up at his house, wearing a look of complete distraught. "I've lost my mom, and now I've lost Allison." This wasn't going well. The only thing that kept me from crying for him was the minor feeling of understand and happiness – that I wasn't the only one who left last night a complete wreck. "I just spent last night crying," He admitted, looking everywhere except towards me. I could see his eyes beginning to water, and in my head I prayed he wouldn't cry. Scott of all people didn't deserve unhappiness – he was one of the kindest, most understanding people I'd ever known. "I came home, and my Mom wouldn't talk to me. I had no-one to talk to. I was going to call you, but you looked upset yourself." That was when he looked at me, and I wore a shocked expression. Did he know? "Don't look at me like that – we all knew you left because of how sad Lydia and Jackson getting back together made you." Yep, he did. But _we_ knew? Who's _we_? Everyone? I didn't reply, I just let him keep talking. "A few minutes after you left, Lydia noticed you were gone and she asked where you were. Even Jackson was worried about you."  
"Jackson?" I asked, confused. Why would he be worried.  
"A lot had happened, Stiles. They thought Gerard kidnapped you, but I put them straight."  
"You _told_ them I was upset Jackson didn't die?" My mouth gaped open. Great.  
Scott shook his head, looking down and laughing slightly. At least he wasn't crying. "No. I told them the reason you told me, but they didn't buy it. Allison knew, Lydia knew – and Jackson knew. Even Derek knew."  
"You were all talking about it?"  
Scott shook his head again, looking up. His eyes weren't as watery, and he looked slightly happier. I'm glad my stress was cheering him up. "No. But it was clear they all knew." He verified me.

I bit my lip, rolled my eyes and looked out the window.

"Stiles," Scott began, looking at me. I didn't turn around but I made it clear I was listening. "We all care about you. I think what happened last night brought us all closer together. The wolves and the Argents, as well as us." I didn't know where he was taking this, but as he went on his tone got more sympathetic. "But I think it's time to move on from Lydia." He took me by surprise. It felt as if I'd been hit in the heart with a sledgehammer and I had swallowed a bowling ball.  
Get over her? He of all people knew how long I'd loved her, more than any one. I turned, but before I could say anything he spoke again. "I know – I know, before you start yelling, I get it. It'll be hard. But you saw what happened last night – Lydia brought Jackson back from being the Kanima. She was the only thing that kept him sane – human, even, and I think right now that's what Jackson needs. I think it's what she needs, too."  
I was outraged. Through heated tears and boiling skin – I felt as if I was going to blow up. What, was he Jackson's best friend now? When I left, did he take that as a sign that I didn't want to be his friend any more? And now that Jackson was a werewolf, he, Isaac and Jackson could be the three musketeers?  
I didn't know what to say. I bit my tongue, but I could feel and almost see the redness and anger of my self in the reflection of my wind screen. But he never showed any worry, he just stayed calm and spoke again.  
"Stiles, you've always told me two people's happiness is better than one." That was when I knew everything he was saying was out of honest friendship. That was the verification. "A few years ago, when we were freshman, you told me to try out for Soccer. Remember?" I nodded, anger still pulsating through my body. "Back when I was normal and had no superhuman skills that benefited me at all, we tried out. We made complete idiots of ourselves, but you still made the team. Your name was the first to get called, and we both waited for mine - but it wasn't. I told you to go for it, but you didn't want to play knowing I wasn't on the team." I knew where this was going now. My body started to cool, and a small – for once _not_ fake – smile formed on my lips. "You quit and told me; _two people's happiness is better than one, _and that if both of us can't play neither of us will." He was right. Sad, but true. I wanted to defend myself. To say why couldn't those two people be me and Lydia, and not Jackson and Lydia? But in the pit of my stomach, I knew. She would never be truly happy with me. She'd always had so much more chemistry with him. I hate the truth.

"I just don't know if I'll be able to get over her." I admitted, biting hard onto my lip. I was determined not to cry, to not even allow my eyes to water.  
"We'll do it together," Scott suggested, smiling. "You and me. You get over Lydia, I'll get over Allison." I did like the idea, but an inner part of me laughed at Scott's suggestion of him getting over Allison. As if he'd have to ever get over her. It was Scott and Allison, and no matter what reason they broke up – they were bound to get back together. After all, he was a wolf. Everything that went against her family and now probably her. I didn't believe for a minute that their break up was for definite. I'd be stupid if I did.  
But I couldn't turn down Scott's suggestion. He was too nice about it – too eager. So I nodded, and smiled one more real smile. "Okay."

"Good. Derek wants to round us up tonight at his place. Some wolf business, apparently. You should come. We'll start by distracting ourselves from the reasons we're so upset."  
I exhaled and nodded. "Okay." I said, and he smiled. I roared up the engine once more and drove up Scott's street. I kept at a steady speed, not wanting to go too fast.

After all, I was in no rush to get to school.


End file.
